


you want it to stay together (on your own terms)

by cyclothimic



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Angst with a Happy Ending, Assassins & Hitmen, F/F, Girls with Guns, Hurt/Comfort, Killing, Mr. and Mrs. Smith - Freeform, Romance, Romantic Face Punching, Tumblr Prompt, more like mrs and mrs smith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 21:55:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14777957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyclothimic/pseuds/cyclothimic
Summary: tumblr prompt: Mr Mrs smith au with supercorp. Maybe that can work as a prompt._or Lena and Kara are assassins, but they got married without knowing it, until one day they do.





	you want it to stay together (on your own terms)

**Author's Note:**

> wheeeeee - after that greek myth au, i figured it's time i start filling out prompts, and this is one of many.

_The things you hope for the most are the things that destroy you in the end_

_-Will Grayson, Will Grayson, John Green and David Levithan_

* * *

_Then_

As her phone buzzed for the umpteenth time in the elevator, Kara wished that the specialized network Winn had designed was not so advanced that they would have top notch signals even in the elevators. She shot the older man in the same space with her a sheepish smile before pulling the device out from her back pocket and checking the messages her colleagues had left her.

She prepared herself when the act of opening the top message bubble revealed a countdown from ten. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. And…tock.

The compartment she and the man were in came to a halting stop and she pretended to be thrown off balance, falling into the arms of the man who readily caught her fall, hands conveniently lower on her hips than they were supposed to be. Honestly, the agency ought to know by now that she deserved something more challenging than this.

Another sheepish smile was responded with a sorry excuse of a kind smile – more like a leer. Before he could say anything, the lights flickered and eventually plunged the two of them into complete darkness. She grimaced when the hands on her hips squeezed, but she took the opportunity to draw out the wire hidden under her sleeve and then in a quick move, sidestepped and shifted behind him, the wire taut against his throat.

"Should have kept your hands to yourself," she muttered.

Gurgling noises filled the tiny square space alongside clumsy fumbles and feeble efforts to loosen himself from someone he must have thought was just a pretty girl in the same elevator as him. She waited it out – for him to choke on his own blood, lose oxygen, and overcompensate with more carbon dioxide than necessary.

Over his shoulder, the LED of her watch lighted up. Two minutes was all it took for his body to give up on him and slump back against her. She released him and took out a small towel from beneath her jacket, wiping her blood on the material. She cleared her throat three times and started whistling to the tune of  _Shape of You_.

The lights came back on. But instead of going up, the elevator started moving down until it reached the basement. The doors slid open and her team was waiting on the other side of it.

Alex raised her brows at the sight before her, zeroing in on the body and the pool of blood that Kara was standing in. She stepped into the elevator compartment, careful to avoid the pool, and turned the body over, whistling and grimacing at the same time when she saw the deep scar embedded in the man's throat.

"Yikes," she whispered.

"You have shoes in the van, right?" Kara asked, exiting the elevator and allowing James and Sam to join her sister.

"Yeah, in the back."

Kara nodded. "Make sure you clean it up right. See you tomorrow. Love you!" Kara threw over her shoulder as she approached the van and opened the door, changing into a pair of new shoes that wouldn't leave blood trace.

Once she was sure that she didn't look like someone who just committed murder, she crossed the parking lot to where her motorcycle was parked and mounted it. And then she was out, already forgetting about what she had done and thinking about the drinks she truly deserved at her favorite bar.

Bars weren't usually quiet, and that was what she liked about this – it was serene and calm, as if waiting for the storm to come. She could walk in, play some tunes on the jukebox, and sit in a corner by herself and not be disturbed. To say it was seedy would be a misjudgment. It was the one place where shady people like her could relax without anyone accusing her of anything.

They respected each other. The need for quiet after the things they had done – whatever it was. The purpose of forgetting and numbing the guilt for the newcomers. The craving for more loneliness despite the loneliness haunting their tails.

A new bartender was situated behind the bar. A woman, raven haired, green eyes glinting under the dim light, skin pale and emphasized in the strobe beams across the room, dressed in a black button down with sleeves rolled up the elbows, and definitely peaking enough of Kara's interest to want the woman in her bed tonight.

* * *

_Now_

Lena stared at the single-story house from the driveway, unable to figure out if it was even a home anymore. They bought it three years ago – three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room, a kitchen, and a garage. Perfect to build a family, which was neither her nor her wife's intentions in the long run, apparently.

She huffed a humorless chuckle. Her wife, Kara Danvers, instead of a pilot, was actually an assassin. Not that Lena had any right to be angry about it – that would be hypocritical – but damn it, she  _was_. She was  _so_ angry. Enough for her to want to  _kill_ , preferably blondes with thick rimmed glasses and glowing blue eyes and a grin that could light up the world.

Shooting a look at the car haphazardly parked in the driveway, Lena approached the front door, making herself known with the clack of her heels on the patio wood floorboard and drawing her gun out from the holster well hidden under her leather jacket. Her body was pulled into an almost crouch, prepared to duck at any chance, as she opened the door and entered the place she wasn't sure if she could call home.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind her, Kara made her first move by lunging out from the closet. But Lena wasn't the  _topper_ at her agency for nothing – easily, Kara's arms hugged air as she ducked out of the way and sprinted to crouch behind the television.

"You can do better than that, Kara," she goaded, buying herself time to crawl from behind the television to the kitchen.

Even feet away, she could hear the way Kara's teeth clicked in displeasure. "Oh, don't worry about me," Kara said, her voice dark and betrayed and frustrated. Yeah, Lena could relate.

Lena couldn't help but delay a few seconds to stare at the fruit bowl on the kitchen island, the one she had replace every night because Kara bulldozed through them like a lioness starved for months every night. The footsteps that echoed from the living room and grew closer snapped her out of her thoughts and she ducked again.

* * *

_Then_

"You taste like strawberries."

Kara opened her eyes and laughed at the woman in all her naked glory sitting at the edge of the bed, looking at her over her shoulder. "Are you still drunk?"

The loft was quiet. Peaceful. High enough to prevent the city's busyness from interrupting their collective peace a little too much. She had never brought anyone back home. If she ever had someone and felt the need to satisfy that annoyingly humane need of hers, she had a regular hotel room booked at all times for such activities.

And yet, two hours of lofty conversations and a few cans of beer later, she found herself tightly hugged from behind by the bartender and driving in the direction of the loft. The sex was phenomenal – Kara didn't even know that five orgasms in a row were possible. The exhaustion she fell asleep to wasn't a bad thing. And the sight she opened her eyes to certainly beat having to wake up alone.

Lena shrugged. "Or maybe you just eat too much strawberries," she replied.

Kara raised her brows, hugging the pillow under her head tighter. "Why don't you come and find out?" she whispered, a little more throatily than she was used to.

She watched Lena watched her carefully. And then she watched Lena turn and climb towards her carefully. And then she watched Lena's eyes darkened from emerald green to almost black as she settled herself atop the blonde, hands pressed into the mattress on both sides of Kara's head. Over the woman's shoulder, Kara watched a purple bra swinging on the fan casually.

"Maybe it's time you tell me what  _I_ taste like," Lena whispered, lowering her head close enough that each of her lips movements could almost be felt on Kara's mouth.

The blonde groaned, ignoring the fact that she had to show up at the headquarters in thirty minutes, and surged up to meet Lena's lips with her own. The raven haired woman's laugh echoed in the cavity of her mouth, vibrating the chambers of her throat, and settled in her lungs.

And Kara was a goner.

* * *

_Now_

Lena didn't want to care. She wanted to harness that anger and use it. She wanted to want to kill Kara. But then she heard a strained groan from Kara once she threw the grenade over the top of the island. And she wanted to leap out and check on Kara.

She did. And then Kara – that little bitch – lunged onto her and slammed her into the counter, the edge of it digging into her hip so deeply that she hissed. Using the advantage of having Kara distracted slightly, Lena retaliated by smashing a fist into the blonde's stomach and pushing her away.

It was enough time for her to regain her bearings and run out of the kitchen and back into the living room, taking the stairs two at a time.

"You play dirty, Luthor!" Kara shouted.

"You've known that since the first time we fucked," Lena retorted, slipping into the study and ignoring the office chair where they had sex for the first time in this place she used to call home for the hidden compartment behind their wedding photo hanging on the wall.

* * *

_Then_

Most of the time, it was for the money. The increase of zeroes in her bank account after every job was reasonably gratifying and it had been long since Kara felt any repulse over it. It also didn't hurt that most of their marks were nothing short of scumbags of the earth and she truly believed the world would be a better place without them.

Sometimes, the agency decided to do some quid pro quo job for extremely wronged people who truly didn't deserve it. Despite her love for money and the fact that she could easily get a new car with the new paycheck, it was those quid pro quo jobs that really made her happy with her job. The righteousness of it, the idea that her occupation as an assassin didn't mean she was necessarily a bad person, they always made her all the gladder at the end of each free job.

The body was horrifyingly mangled, which she thought was more than the man the body used to be deserved. A man who trafficked children for both sexual and labor exploitation, along with the marriage to a fifteen year old girl in India, and the abuse he constantly inflicted on the women he committed adultery with – a mangled body was a reward.

She stood up after wrapping him up in the plastic that had been laid out across the entirety of the living room floor in one of his many apartments. As she fished out her phone to call up Alex and the others to perform the rest of the cleaning duties, a smile inadvertently made its way to her lips, tugging on the edges and resting there forever.

_Lena (9:21 p.m.): I'm making good on my promise of at least ten cartons of pot stickers._

Kara swiped the bottoms of her boots hard over the plastic, probably cracking a few more bones of the body wrapped in it. And she honestly didn't care. The gratification she had felt at the thought of being able to help countless helpless people had instantly turned into a lightness that she had only known after meeting Lena Luthor.

A tiny velvet box carrying a ten carat ring pressed into her thigh, blocked only by the material of her dark jeans.

She felt high. Elated. And it was stupid. Beyond stupid. Incredibly foolish. And yet, the thought of getting to go home to a woman who knew her and loved her as well as Lena after washing the blood of her body made stupidity sounded so pleasant.

The team got there after her text. She went home. And Lena was there in the living room, watching some old sitcom rerun.  _Home_.

She ignored the aroma of the cartons of Chinese on the coffee table. Ignored Lena's smile and greeting. Got onto her knees in front of the raven haired woman. Dug into her back pocket for the box that had been burning a hole for a little over half a year. Opened it and smiled as she watched Lena's smile freeze across her face.

"Let's get married." She was sure she had never grinned so widely before. It would have hurt if her heart wasn't thumping so excitingly under her ribs. "You are…wonderful," she said with a shrug. "You know me. You get me. You never pressure me to tell you things that I can't. And I want to go on more adventures with you. I want to – I wouldn't ever dare to claim you, but I want to be yours. And if you'd do me the privilege, be mine. Marry me."

Training at the agency had encompassed many things – training for both the physical and the mental. Taekwondo, jujitsu, karate, judo, kickboxing, Krav Maga – she was more than just an expert in all these, plus a few more moves that she created on her own while on the field.

She was taught to use her wiles and beauty to get into anyone's mind and lure them into false security. She was schooled to read a room within ten minutes and understand the way she ought to work it. Last but not least, attachment wasn't forbidden, but definitely advised against. She had seen the way this job ruined her sister's relationship with Maggie, and now Alex only insisted that her sexual activities with Sam was just that: sexual – Kara could see it was more than that.

It was why she constantly avoided relationships. The longest relationship she had ever maintained lasted two months. And that was only because Mike was kind of really awesome in bed, even though he never failed to be a jerk. Honestly, if she was ever assigned to kill him, she wouldn't hesitate. It wasn't worth it – the lies, the hiding, the inability to give partners what they wanted from her.

"Oh darling, I've been yours since the moment you told me I taste like vodka," Lena whispered, sliding down from the couch to hug Kara.

As Kara hugged her back, she couldn't help but think that this was definitely worth it.

* * *

_Now_

Lena was crouched against the desk, staring at the enlarged wedding photo that had been dropped to the floor to get to the hidden compartment.

Kara wore a suit, white and pristine, bowtie neatly attached to her neck. Lena had a dress on, the last one that was on a mannequin in the display glass and fit her perfectly. They looked beautiful and  _in love_. So in love. While her eyes was staring laughingly into the camera, Kara was zeroed in on her, peaceful grin and adoring eyes.

And god, she wished it didn't hurt. She wished that her heart had remained intact when her mother told her about Kara's real identity. She wished that it didn't have to come to this. She wished she hadn't caved that year. She wished she hadn't left her number on the bedside table that morning.

She wished it had been real.

Her time of wishing ran out when a foot emerged on the drywall on the other side of the room. An angry crash by an angry woman, an echo of how Lena currently felt. She ducked to the other side of the desk, where she could hide and buy herself just a little bit more time, but deep inside, she knew that this was it. Either she would die with a slit throat or Kara would die from a bullet to the head.

The kick to the drywall was just for dramatic effect as she listened to the creak of the door swinging open. Amidst their panting and the loudness that had invaded this house since her entry, the door seemed to be making the most noise. It was insulting.

"It's time to end this, Lena," Kara announced. The door shut close again, an emblem of them being trapped in this undesirable situation. "Or is that even your real name?"

"Not exactly a fan of fraud," Lena replied, checking for the last time that her gun was loaded. Now or never, she supposed.

Kara hummed. "Bit too late for morality, don't you think?"

Unable to help herself, Lena chuckled dryly, clenching her jaw and tightening her throat to stop the clog from forming. "Don't be a hypocrite, Kara. It's unbecoming."

"Forgive me for refusing to take lessons on hypocrisy from you."

Lena would have rebuked with something sharper, except a bullet pierced through the desk and missed her head by a margin and then planted itself in the frame of the wedding photo. Okay, she thought she was angry just now, but she was definitely angry now. Clenching her jaw, she tightened her fingers around her own gun.

"I didn't miss, by the way." Something heavy thudded on the carpet. "I've always hated these things," Kara muttered with disgust in her voice. That must have been her own gun.

Knowing that she would only be a chance and it could easily go south, Lena closed her eyes and took a deep breath before leaping out from behind the desk, gun poised to shoot. Except Kara was already there and prepared for the attack, knocking the weapon from Lena's fingers and landing a jab on her stomach. She took the opportunity offered as Lena keeled over with a grunt to put one hand on her forearm and another on her shoulder to push both of them over, toppling over a plant and crashing into mounds of soil and fertilizer.

As Kara straddled her, Lena's own gun in her hand and raised high with the butt in the air, Lena knew she had lost. She dropped back, ignoring the fact that were soil and bacteria climbing into her hair, and sighed, adrenaline losing its presence quickly to be replaced with exhaustion. Her chest rose and fell repeatedly with the air she was trying to catch.

Her heart sank. Kara was better, stronger, faster – Lena was always better with the efficiency of automated weapons and lines of codes. She was also better at setting her face, to be as emotionless as possible, unlike the lack of mask that made Kara  _Kara_. Well, supposed there was one thing she didn't lie about.

"Finish it then," she demanded.

Kara's face, if it was even possible, twisted into something more intense than anguish. The blonde cleared her throat and shook her head, her hand began to tremble. It would have been easy for Lena to take this moment of uncertainty to grab the weapon and point it the other way.

"Just tell me –" Kara paused, sucking in a sharp breath and blinking rapidly. To Lena's surprise, there was a wet sheen to those blue eyes. "Did you – was any of that real?" she stammered.

Lena narrowed her eyes, the ache in her chest had nothing to do with the blows and kicks that Kara had landed previously. She shook her head firmly, watching as Kara's face fell. "You don't get to ask me that question." It sounded bitter and cool. Good.

Kara tightened her thighs around Lena's torso, lowering the gun and flipping it around to nudge the muzzle under Lena's chin. "Don't make me out to be the bad guy here," she gritted between clenched teeth. "That's not –" Kara nudged harder, sure to have created an imprint of the muzzle on Lena's chin. " _Fight back_ , damn it!"

The only sound she could make a resigned chuckle as she flopped further, the strength flowing out of her muscles with each flutter of her lids. Was any of that real? Hadn't she been questioning that since she learned the news? After all these, she knew one thing – she knew this: Kara was real; had never faked it; it was all real.

She loved Kara. She loved her wife. She loved the morning nuzzles into her neck. She loved the sex, morning, afternoon, night, and in between. She loved the peaceful moments they got where they could just lounge in the living room and watch trashy shows and let that evolve into more sex. She loved the house. She loved the wedding. She loved it all, even though the person she loved doing it with was one click away from shooting her brains out.

She could fight for this.

With that decision made, Lena reached up to clutch her fingers over the material of Kara's shirt, ignoring the confusion on the woman's face to pull her down and kiss her. She kissed her wife like it was the last time.

The gun clattered on the floor next to them as Kara followed willingly. Kara deepened the intensity of their lips meeting, opening Lena's with nudges of her sweet tongue. Lena should be used to it, but this felt foreign and yet all the more intoxicating. Maybe it came with the fact that they had just learned who each other truly was. There was a newness to it that Lena couldn't get enough of.

When Kara's hands slithered up her blouse, Lena stopped her and put a halt to their kiss.

"We're not having sex in soil."

* * *

_Then_

A loud moan, a sharp gasp, and the blonde entirely collapsed on top of Lena, panting heavily with breathless laughter in between. She couldn't believe this. It wasn't even the wine. It was ultimately all Lena. The woman did godless things to her and Kara kept looking for more.

And she would have it for the rest of her life if she had any say in it.

"Married sex is awesome," she commented, voice muffled in the pillow.

Lena laughed, fingers gently and absentmindedly tracing the planes of Kara's spine. "I don't think you've ever done that to me before."

Kara lifted her head, looming over Lena by perching her elbows on both sides of her head. "I'm just a happy wife," she said, descending to plant a sweet and soft kiss on Lena's lips, followed by her nose, her cheeks, and her eyelashes.

God, she loved this woman.

"Me too," Lena agreed while inclining her head.

Kara took in the satisfied smile spreading across Lena's face and swore to always be the one to be responsible for it.

* * *

_Now_

Like clockwork, both of their phones dinged in two random corners of the room after they were well sated and ready to sleep their entire lives away. Even the sex was different. More explosive. More fireworks. And the orgasms were just… _goddamn_.

They shared a look before both slid out of bed to retrieve their phones. Lena read the text Sam had just sent her, horrified with each word.

_Sam (3:04a.m.): They're after you. Split up before they find you._

When she lifted her head, Kara was looking at her the same way she felt. Lena waved her phone flimsily in the air and gulped, not sure how to go about this next. She suddenly felt very naked – and she was, actually. There was a moment of silence as she contemplated her options.

"I'm not leaving you," Kara said before Lena could even suggest anything else, her chin set and eyes flashing, something Lena had only seen when the blonde was determined to get her way. "I heard Brazil's great at this time of the year."

Lena stared at her wife for a really long while. And then she smiled. "Well then,  _pra caramba_."

**Author's Note:**

> so? what'd you think? i hope the one who sent me this prompt is satisfied.
> 
> anyway, if you enjoy my work and would like to show me support, maybe read this [tumblr post](http://overcanary.tumblr.com/post/173895288282/buy-me-a-coffee)? i would really appreciate it because caffeine is very important to me.


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